Impeccable Timing
by stuckwithnaicha
Summary: It's but minutes from the wedding at sunset and Hanji's best man has one too many regrets.


Knuckles danced on wood in a short measure. It didn't take long for the door to swing open, leaving Erwin's hand suspended in thin air. Instantaneously, the blond looked away, almost nervous for no apparent reason.

"Is now a bad time?" he asked, eyes still fixed on late afternoon sunlight dashing through windowpanes from across the hall.

"What's with _that_?" the mahogany-haired figure inquired with a chuckle that lit up the atmosphere, prompting him to throw her a quick glance. "I don't want my best man to suffer from a stiff neck on my wedding day. If you're talking to me, then look at me. Only the groom can't see the bride."

And in a mere few seconds, he was pinned down to the ground, reminded of his place- what he was and what he would never be.

She cradled his cheeks in her palms as her eyes met deep blue. "Now, what is it?"

An unobstructed view of her russet-hued eyes was now as rare to him as a blue moon. At the sight of which, a nostalgic sting ached from deep in his guts, triggering memories of early mornings, unearthed sentiments, shared beds, and discarded frames among many other articles.

Unlocking his gaze from hers, Erwin's eyes widened at the sight of beige fabric and champagne pearls adorning soft, tanned skin, rays of sun glazing over her, almost ethereal.

"You look dashing, Hanji Zoe."

Untouched lips tugged to the sides to beam at her taller companion. "You think so?"

"I knew 'beautiful' wouldn't have cut it for you." A shared laugh echoed through the walls.

"You were asking if now was okay. Impeccable timing, actually. I was wondering whether or not to put more war paint on," she interjected in an almost serious tone. "But I guess nothing says _good enough_ like that look on your face just a bit ago," Hanji snorted, resuming the barrage of laughter between them.

"I believe by _war paint_ , you meant make-up?" he asked enquiringly, eyes following the flow of her gown as she turned and walked over to take a seat by the dresser.

"Cut me some slack. You know, I did do it all by myself."

"That's entertaining."

"Oh, I'm serious. Petra and Nanaba wanted to hire a whole group to work sorcery on me." She faced him, aghast, with eyes stretched wide and eyebrows reaching for her hairline. "That's _five total strangers_ hogging my very last moments of independence. Can you believe it? How could I have possibly agreed to that?"

The light from the room's wide-open windows was a gradient quickly shifting, signalling dusk's fast approach. There was no need for Erwin to wonder why he felt like a prisoner awaiting his execution. The sun would soon set and take along with it the light from his life.

"I understand. I should be leaving, then," the blond mustered.

"Erwin," her voice pulled the reins of his steps to a halt before he could fully motion away from the door frame. "Don't think about what I said. It was different. You're no stranger."

Yes, he was no stranger. They had known and still knew each other well. Too well.

"I've made peace with myself, so I'm good. A quick talk would be alright. Don't worry."

Out in the field, shades of yellow were turning a bright orange. The sky was ripe for the peak of a fine day. Guests were waiting, probably wondering where the bride was.

"Now you must have come here to tell me something other than the fact that I look fine. We've got a little time." There was a curious, searching look on her face, prying, but unnoticed by the well-dressed man etching his gaze on the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath her.

"Did _he_ send you to tell me something? Was it, ' _you better not trip, shitty glasses'?_ " She burst with laughter that died too quickly. There was no response apart from a wordless gesture to deny her joking assumptions. And deafening silence. Clouds moving, shadows sliding past still figures.

"If there's nothing, Erwin, then we better go." Voice raising a few decibels higher, the brunette let out a confounded, frustrated sigh before throwing her palms onto the table to pull herself up.

"Hanji," he said, shattering the silence in a tone so endearing, it was almost foreign to her ears. For the second time that afternoon, images of days long gone crawled their way back to recollection. Awakening to the morning light and to a familiar voice once so near, now lightyears away. Or so she had thought.

"Are there ever some things you wish you could change?"

From her mirror, wide sepia-hued eyes were reflected to once again meet orbs of stormy seas.

She turned to face him, feeling the warmth of a ray of sunlight on her forearm.

"Do you have any regrets?"

 _A few,_ she said in her mind. And she could swear it was loud enough for him to hear.

"None at the moment."

Would she notice how his fingers twitched at her reply?

"That's good."

Would he notice her trembling feet, not aching from pain, but from longing?

"You?"

 _I have one too many._

"I have quite a few."

"Would you tell me about them?"

"Would you want to hear?"

"We've got time."

"Hanji."

"Erwin?"

"Hanji, no."

 _No more regrets,_ he added in his mind, and he could swear it was loud enough for the whole world to hear. _No more lies. Stay._

"Time's up." He gave her a smile baring all his insurmountable regrets woven together. "We better get going."

She looked out the window at the sky bleeding vermilion. It was a gaping wound, irreparable. And they knew they could only let it bleed. Come dusk, the blood would have already faded.

"Yeah," she smiled back. "Impeccable timing."

They knew. Too well.


End file.
